


Exceptions

by BoxOnTheNile



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: M/M, References to past CSA, but is somehow mostly a domestic fic, its how juno deals with old trauma basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 19:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18212708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoxOnTheNile/pseuds/BoxOnTheNile
Summary: He’s starting to feel trapped. “Alright, you’re making me claustrophobic.” Peter takes his gentle flailing with good humor, laughing gently as he pulls two mugs from the cabinet. Juno firmly reminds himself that Peter won’t hurt him,can’thurt him, but he remains hyperaware of exactly where Peter is.





	Exceptions

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ
> 
> So I'm about halfway through Juno Steel and the Promised Land, but I've seen a few, idk, implications? In fic and meta posts? That Juno is a CSA survivor, like I _needed_ another reason to project. He's already depressed and NB, could you make him more relatable to me, Penumbra writers?
> 
> And I _know_ that for some reason he doesn't remember it? In canon? But this is a bad time of year for me and I finally have a way to explain how I function please don't take this from me.
> 
> hi penumbra fandom i'm breaking my way in here with vent fic and i'm sorry

It’s not dramatic.

The Streams would have you believe that trauma like his is violent, manifesting in flashbacks and nightmares and sobbing in the shower as he tries to scrub clean. And some rare days, yeah, it gets bad, and he feels dirty and awful and wants to peel out of his own skin.

Some days? Some days, he could almost forget it. Some days he woke up and went to work and solved cases and crawled back into bed without ever thinking about it.

Most days went like this.

Juno wakes with Peter’s arm slung over his chest and a fragment of memory— _hands on his arm, so much bigger than his, ‘be a good girl’—_ surfaces before sliding back down. He breathes in, out, and carefully extracts himself from Peter’s grip. He showers and starts coffee and reviews the notes on his current case until Peter shuffles out of the bedroom and drapes himself across Juno’s back sleepily.

Juno stiffens at the unexpected touch, then carefully shifts them so he’s no longer cornered against the counter. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to sneak up on a lady like that?”

All the doors are unobstructed, and in a pinch he could absolutely fight hard enough to reach one. 

“Sorry, darling,” Peter says, and presses a kiss to his hair. Juno smiles into his coffee.

He’s starting to feel trapped. “Alright, you’re making me claustrophobic.” Peter takes his gentle flailing with good humor, laughing gently as he pulls two mugs from the cabinet. Juno firmly reminds himself that Peter won’t hurt him, _can’t_ hurt him, but he remains hyperaware of exactly where Peter is.

He accepts the mug and the small pill Peter gives him. The meds are new, something Peter and Rita kept urging him towards after everything with Miasma and his eye, and he grudgingly admits the antidepressants are helpful. 

He’s still buzzing with anxious energy, though, so he gathers his notes and mutters something about the office and his client and Rita and scurries out the door with a quick kiss goodbye.

Rita is already at the office, opening. She grins at him and chirps “mornin’, boss,” slings one arm around his torso in a quick hug. She telegraphs her intent clearly, pauses for half a second before actually touching. She coaxed the basics from him years ago, knows that he needs a warning or time to move away before being touched.

“Mistah Bernahl called this morning, said he wanted to touch base with ya about the case so far,” Rita says, and Juno appreciates the heads-up. Curtis Bernahl is a big person, and even though he's soft spoken and gentler than a kitten, he still sets off all kinds of warning bells in Juno's head. Thankfully, by now he can differentiate between the PTSD and actual suspicion, and Bernahl is harmless.

Juno still keeps the desk between him and Bernahl the whole meeting. After, he has to consciously relax his tense shoulders.

He goes over his notes again. There's gotta be something he's missing, Bernahl is certain his daughter wouldn't just leave…

“Oh, Mister Nur–Mister Glass!” Rita greets in the other room. Juno looks at the door in confusion.

“Good morning, Rita,” Peter answers, and Juno ducks his head to hide a smile that no one can see anyway. “Juno left in such a rush this morning he left his wallet.”

“Oh, well, you can leave it here and I'll make sure it gets to him when he comes back.”

She's covering for him, like she always does after one-on-one meetings with men, so Juno can work through the lingering anxiety. He's good, though, Peter's _good_ , on his way to joining Mick on the list of people bigger than Juno that don't set him off.

“It's fine, Rita!” Juno calls. “He gets to be the exception.”

“'Kay, boss,” she yells back. “Well, you heard the lady, get going.”

Peter damn near sashays into his office, absolutely stunning in a pale blue sundress and half a dozen bangles on one wrist. They clink together loudly as he offers Juno his ratty leather wallet.

Juno takes it. “I didn't even know you had bangles.”

“I didn't. I… acquired them on the way here.” He sits gracefully in the chair on the other side of Juno's desk. “Juno, darling… what did I do to chase you out this morning? You were so focused on where I was, and you took off the moment you could.”

“You didn't do anything,” Juno says without hesitation. “Look, there's… there's some things that you don't really get over, not all the way, not even thirty years later. I'm fine, really, but there's some habits you can't break.”

Peter's lips press into a tight line as he mulls that over. “Alright. I won't pry, not until you're ready to tell me, but what can I do? I figured perhaps making it easier for you to follow me in the apartment may help.” The bangles ring again.

Emotion wells in Juno's chest. “You don't have to do that.”

“Juno. I wanted to.”

He's allowed to ask for things. Rita has been trying to drum that in his head for years. “Just. Don't sneak up on me. Give me a warning before touching me. Don't, uh, don't trap me against things.”

“The counter this morning,” Peter says, mortified. “Oh, Juno, I'm so sorry.”

“You moved the second I told you it was too much,” Juno says. “And that's _enough_.” He reached to take Peter's hand. “You're still the best thing that's ever happened to me.” 

“I will endeavor to live up to that,” Peter vows, and Juno knows he does not deserve Peter Nureyev. He blinks hard and tries, desperately, not to cry. He fails, a tear sliding down his cheek. Peter reaches to wipe it away and _pauses._ “May I?”

“Please don’t,” Juno says quickly, and Peter _drops his hand._ The bangles on his wrist ring as he fidgets, but he doesn’t touch Juno until he’s rubbed the tears from his eyes and reached across the desk. Then, he takes the detective’s hand between his own and holds it.

He presses a kiss to Juno’s fingers, and the tears well back up. 

Probably, he thinks, eventually, Peter will be another exception.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at boxonthenile on tumblr and @nile_speaks on twitter


End file.
